


Crab Walk with Me

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Multi, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 17:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A date. Skates by the Bay. On the bay? You couldn't remember the name of the place. </p><p>It doesn't matter anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crab Walk with Me

Karkat Vantas despaired.

Lying, splayed across his bed, he wallowed in it. It was a deep-set, sanguine despair. Each moment passed, and the despair he had wallowed in for the past 2 days had finally left. Before long, he sat up. Pulling out his broken cell phone, he flipped open the top. No new messages, as expected. 2 days ago. April 11th, 2013.

==> Be Karkat Vantas on April 11th.

It was about 2:30 PM. Thursday. Your usual date night for Terezi and yourself. A half an hour before your date. 3:00 rolled around and you stood outside Skates on the Bay. Your reservation was rolling over, and if she didn't show up, there's a high chance you lost the money you spent on it. You looked anxiously at people passing you on the street, they stared at your stark white hair, and you scowled back. They stopped staring immediately, usually. The only person who didn't was that mysterious girl across the street from you, Nataly? You don't remember her name, but you have her name in your phone. 510-693-3413. ?????? Lion. At least that's how you heard it. She said it was French. Who the fuck knows, it probably had like 20 silent letters.

3:15 and 3:30 passed quickly, and the sky was darkening. A single drop landed in your hair - it dripped through your thin hair to your nose, dripping off to the ground. You walk to the nearest bus stop, staring at the rocks and litter on the ground, kicking a wrapper with a stylized cat out of the way, until the bus comes in. This isn't the bus you want. The driver says it will be another hour before your bus proper arrives. The inner sadness at being stood up combined with the sheer number of inconveniences you've suffered today, your response to the bus driver came out in a harsh tone.

"Aye, sir. Your bus will be here at 4:45."

It started out as an angry mumble. 

"...are you fucking kidding me."

"Not at all. It's really not that long of a wait."

"Just drive your goddamn passengers."

You chastise yourself for being so crude to him. Your father was always quite strict on you, and your, to use his words, "creative use of vernacular terms". But what the hell does he know? He dragged your brother around, making Kankri his own pet. The two are barely different now days. You sit back down on the bench on the bus stop, pulling out your phone - it was a quite advanced phone, smartphone running Trollian OS. You entered your password, an inside joke you shared with a childhood crush.

1 new message.  
  
From Trollian user gallowsCalibrator.

GC: Hey, Karkat.

Your fingers pounded out a response.

CG: what terezi  
GC: Im sorry.  
CG: what  
CG: what the FUCK are you talking about  
GC: Im sorry for everything  
GC: Im sitting here at someones house  
GC: Im so sorry

Your mind raced - whose house - it wasn't your business finding out. Why did she skip out on date night?  
  
CG: where the fuck are you  
CG: youre late you little shit  
GC: Im not coming karkat.  
GC: Im with dave.  
GC: Im sorry  
  
And with that your questions were answered.

CG: and now what

A question you didn't want an answer to.

You open a new conversation with someone else. Someone who can drive. You don't want to sit here for another hour.  
  
TC: he y man  
CG: gamzee can i ask a favor of you?  
TC: haha sure man w/e floats your crabby boat  
TC: wacha need bra  
CG: please dont type phonetically  
CG: but the favor i need  
CG: i got stood up gamzee  
CG: i need a ride home  
TC: sure shit  
TC: where ya at motherfucker  
CG: skates at the bay  
CG: please hurry  
CG: the rain is getting heavier

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The rain poured down as you watched a familiar purple convertible take a turn too fast, and slow to a stop before you.

"Gamzee. Put the top up, shithead."  
  
He pressed a button and the top rose and encapsulated the car. You take off your shirt, unbuttoning it down from the top. Your undershirt was still dry, somewhat. You set your shirt on the wet seat, and sit down. It was an unfortunate color - bright, sanguine red. You had grown to despise that color. It inscribed its despicable tint onto your irises, reminding you of its existence every time you dared to look at yourself in a mirror. Albinism was a random trait. And it chose to stick itself on to you.  
...the smell of bad weed wafted through the air. Eugh. Out of all of the people to be online at any given time, it had to be him. He wasn't so bad from a distance. But up close he was just gross, to be honest.

  
You received a new message.

  
Opening your phone, you saw it was not one, but many.

13 new messages.  
  
GC: Karkat?  
GC: im sorry  
GC: I just dont think  
GC: i dont think i want to be in a relationship with you  
GC: youre great  
GC: but i just dont feel that romantic feeling with you  
GC: im sorry  
GC: i think you deserve better  
GC: its just not right of me  
GC: im sorry  
GC: karkat?  
GC: karkat are you still there?  
GC: im sorry

You let out a deep sigh. You can't let yourself cry while Gamzee is here. He'll probably start some sort of fucking monologue about how everything is a miracle and you should learn to enjoy it. Gamzee took another turn too fast. He leaned into you, pushing your arms together. Your wet fingers drop your phone to the ground. Picking it up, your phone's screen is cracked. It doesn't take away from the view, but it's enough to put the cherry on the shitty day shake.

You get home, and Gamzee speeds off, not caring for speed limits whatsoever. Your awning is strong, you suppose. It's enough to keep the rain off of your porch, aside from the few gusts of winds that occasionally come by, blowing rain drops onto you. They say it's a lot easier to cry in the rain.

You can say first hand that it's not.

**Author's Note:**

> Meh. 
> 
> Brace yourself for the mysterious French girl!


End file.
